Category: Garth (NHRN)

  • Eggs Are Stupid, Let’s Throw Husbands At Them!

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) and I have been married for…uhhhhhh…okay, so we've been married for nearly…ummmmm…a lot of years, however, we still sometimes experience ah-HAH moments, you know, liiiiiike enjoying a quiet morning walk before work, while I try and figure out my travel schedule and my husband goes through our meal plan for the week, and…whoa…we're both all…maaaaan, but how our lives have changed, eh?

    My husband has taken over a lot of the cooking and it's not like I don't know HOW to cook (been doing it since I was 10!), now I just sometimes forget.

    "You want me to hard boil some eggs for breakfast?"

    Two of our kids are home sick and, trust me, I know that they're old enough to take care of themselves, NO DOUBT, but I was raised by a Hungarian Grandmother (and Mother), who…at the first cough or sniffle…would break out their mental list of old world remedies, half of which my kids should be VERY happy I've forgotten about.

    "Des, pleabe!"

    I put up a pot of water to boil and then grab an entire dozen…of eggs…because there are half-a-dozen of us currently living here AND my kids have mastered the art of sharing…especially, viruses!!!…and then I break out my fool-proof hard boiled egg recipe:

    • Put eggs into a pot of water
    • Bring eggs to boil
    • Remove pot from heat
    • Cover and let the eggs sit for twenty minutes

    "There's a trick to peeling these, watch!"

    I grab the pot to show my middle girl the trick to peeling hard boiled eggs, and then my husband walks into the kitchen.

    "You know, there's a trick to peeling those…"

    Here's the thing.

    "YES! I KNOW THE TRICK!"

    The thing is, I know my husband has been doing A LOT of the cooking, and the food shopping, and the everything else-ing that I used to do, and yes, I am blessed he wants to help…BLESSED!…but I already KNOW the trick to peeling hard boiled eggs!

    "Empty the water, cover the pot, and shake the eggs around, like this!"

    And it WOULD have worked, if I had remembered to set the timer.

    Fool-boiled eggs

    Aaaaaand, THIS is what hard boiled eggs are NOT supposed to look like!

    *DROPS MIC*

    The end.

  • If Wonder Woman & Mr. Mom Had A Baby

    GarthNHRN and I have been married for 25 years (and YES, it totally does sound like a lot of years to be married and IT IS a very long time to be married, to the same person!) and we've been parents for 22 years (wut?!?!) and I've been a full-time mom (while working part-time from home as a professional blogger, writer and content producer) ever since.

    Until this past April: When I accepted a full-time position at my current job.

    And then my husband lost his job, in October.

    This is the first time I'm speaking of it in a public forum, because my husband is much more private about his thoughts and feelings, while I'm more of a better out than in type of over-sharer.

    You guys have lived through some of the best and possibly THE WORST times in my life, most recently with my Father recovering from heart failure AND kidney failure.

     

    Watching a new day unfold from my parents' kitchen window and hoping for a better day for Dad. His recovery has been a…

    Posted by Liz Katkics Thompson on Saturday, January 2, 2016

    I can honestly say, without hesitation AND with complete confidence that GarthNHRN would also agree, these last 5 months have been absolutely dreadful AND have offered up some of the MOST stressful periods of our ENTIRE marriage, EVER.

    On the OTHER hand!

    We've experienced some of the BEST stop, drop, laugh your ass off, snort-worthy funniest moments…EVER!…as a family…and, oh YES…there is the food!

     

    My husband made us lunch. And my first thought was…WOW!!!…he really needs to lower the bar, a little. And then I ate it in like four bites. Carry on, Garth(NHRN)!

    Posted by Liz Katkics Thompson on Monday, November 2, 2015

    Now that I am working full-time and commuting into the city (a.k.a. New York City, if you're NOT from Jersey) my husband and I have gone through a sort of Freaky Friday role reversal kind of thing. For example, GarthNHRN does ALL the:

    • Cleaning
    • Cooking
    • Driving kids to school
    • Food Shopping
    • Laundry
    • Picking kids up from school

    And then, he does a whole lot more:

    • Drives my Dad to (and from) dialysis every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday
    • Does the food shopping for my mom, while Dad is at dialysis 
    • Because dialysis takes about 3 – 4 hours
    • Each time
    • Has met with doctors, nurses, pharmacists, therapists, and pretty much every "ist" there is to make sure that "my" parents are getting the best care possible
    • Without going bankrupt
    • That last bullet is ongoing

    Aaaaaaand yet, the man still manages to make the rest of us feel pretty gosh-darned thankful he's around.

     

    GarthNHRN (singing from the kitchen): Tiiiiiiny bubbles, in the wine…Me (singing along): Maaaaaakes me happy…GarthNHRN: All the time…I love it when my husband ad libs 🙂

    Posted by Liz Katkics Thompson on Thursday, January 14, 2016

    Long story short: If Wonder Woman and Mr. Mom had a baby, he or she wouldn't be even half as awesome as GarthNHRN, however, I imagine it would look a lot like this:

    Have you seen Channing Tatum & Beyonce's "Run The World (Girls)" vs. Jenna Dewan-Tatum's "Pony" lip sync battle?!? It. Is. EPIC!

    Aaaaaaand, before you get your boxers all in a bunch, honey (not YOU, I'm talking to GarthNHRN, but feel free to hang around, Queen Tatum Bey, honey) this post is meant to be a reminder…for the times when…you know…you are feeling most un-awesome…or whenever we're having a bad day…but not today.

    Okay? Okay. Now YOU do me (TWSS!)

  • NaBloPoMo 2015: The Joy Of My Husband’s Cooking!

    With my working full-time and commuting into "the city" (NYC, if you live in and around "the city") 3 days out of the week, my kids and my husband have taken over some of the cooking…okay, they do a lot of the cooking…fiiiiiiiiiine…I haven't cooked a solid meal since April.

    Oatmeal Craisin Cookies

    Oatmeal craisin cookies

    Garth(NHRN) is an especially gifted baker and I would do almost anything to bite into one of his delectable cookie creations (that's what SHE…I mean…that's right, I said it!) like those up there, they ARE my favorite! And now he's experimenting with real food.

    Chicken Casserole

    Herbed chicken casserole

    Whenever my husband is home, I start looking forward to lunchtime at 11:30 a.m. Because he'll almost always place a plate on my desk, while describing EXACTLY how he mixed this with that and threw in some more of that stuff over there and…LUNCHTIME!!!! 

    Peel me a pomegranite!

    Oh, and my man is NOT afraid to peel a pomegranate and…NO!!!!…I am SO NOT taking ANY of this for granted. Trust me! And it's really cute how the roles have reversed and I am more than happy to give him space in the kitchen…UNTIL…he placed today's lunch plate on my desk:

    Chicken YUMMY!

    Grilled chicken and mozzarella on top of a bed of salad greens, zucchini, red pepper and a ginger sesame dressing

    And my first thought was…WOW!!!…I'm feeling a little insecure about my place in the kitchen…I mean, he really needs to lower the bar, a little. And then I ate it in like four bites…NEVER MIND…IGNORE ME…and carry on, Garth(NHRN)!

    NaBloPoMo November 2015

  • Because a picture paints a thousand words AND sometimes maybe even a house!

    Contrary to what the rest of my family feels (except for my son, who celebrates his birthday on the 23rd), January is one of my most favorite months of the year. For me, waking up on New Year's Day is sort of like turning to a fresh page in a brand new notebook or purchasing a novel I've been aching to read.

    Half the excitement is in the anticipation of the journey, equaled only by the endless possibilities in watching the progression of a story unfold.

    Personal blogging is a lot like that: I have ALL the words in January, but then life begins to quickly insist on equal (if not more) facetime and, well, trying to weed through all the suckage…day in and day out…has a way of knocking even the most coherent sentences…senseless.

    Case in point, see previous paragraph.

    Long story short: My kids and I have literally grown up in this space and celebrating the start of 2015 also means I've now entered into my 12th year of blogging, however, I'm personally finding it increasingly difficult to write — not without feeling as if I'm being kept behind the border of some imaginary line of what is or isn't blog-worthy.

    Excuse my Jersey, but FRIG THAT!

    I take a lot of pictures, every day. I also share a lot of photos on social media, because they are moments that have either given me a good laugh or moved me in some way and…honestly…I enjoy sharing laughs and movements are good, too.

    Photos have always been an inspiration to the stories I've shared here at This Full House, in fact, this blog has morphed into a timeline of sorts for…oh, I don't know…like settling family disputes or dating our appliances.

    For example, when our water heater broke (among other things) last month:

    Garth (not his real name): When did we get this &%#$ing water heater, anyways?!?!

    Me: Wait, let me check the blog.

    [one beat, two beats]

    Me: We got the &%#$ing water heater in September 2009, when I posted about Our Date night on Twitter.

    Social media is awesome, but it will never replace blogging…not completely…because you can squeeze only so much awesome into 140 characters, right?!? RIGHT?!?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Right. Soooo, for my first blog post in 2015, I grabbed my phone…looked out my kitchen window…and grabbed a shot of the very first thing I saw, you know, for inspiration:

    Day 1 January Blues

    It's a photo of my husband, Garth (not his real name) and he's painting the house…again.

    So, besides explaining to you why he is painting the house in January, I can also prove to our insurance company that:

    • YES!!! My husband is painting the house!!!
    • He has been TRYING to get the house painted since around Thanksgiving!!!
    • But he also works 3 out of 4 weekends, most every month.
    • And he's literally freezing his ball-bearings off!!!
    • Still TRYING to get the house painted!!!
    • BY JANUARY 16th!!!
    • Which is the deadline before they cancel our homeowner's insurance!!!
    • If we don't get the house painted.
    • BY JANUARY 16TH!!!
    • And did you know that paint is best applied only in temperatures ABOVE 35 degrees?!?!
    • Because, WINTER!!!

    Stupid insurance company, dumbass exterior latex paint.

    ©2003 -2015 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything! Also, I'm attempting to blog EVERY DAY in 2015, I hope it lasts! #TFH365

  • Garth and the Amazing Technicolor Dream House

    Garth (not his real name) and I have been planning to paint our house for a long while, however, like most of our DIY projects (see also: all of them), preparing for one thing…leads to eleven more unplanned projects…which need to be addressed, first…before we can even begin thinking about starting on…ummmmm…wait, what WERE we talking about, again?

    [blows bangs out of eyes, looks down at hands, picks at chipped fingernail polish]

    OH YEAH! Painting the house. Right. So, it doesn't help that one of us is more of a…let's just sit back and wait…perhaps think about this a little more, rationally…type person. While the other one of us is all…ohhhhhhhh, let's just throw caution to the wind and get'r done, already…DAMMIT!!!

    Guess which one of us is which. Go ahead. I'll wait.

    [taps foot, counts one Mississippi, two Mississippi]

    IT'S ME!!! I am so NOT a good sit back and just wait-er.

     

    This Full House Autumn 2014

    Autumn is the perfect time to paint the house: look at all the pretty colors!

    Loooong…boooooring…even more convoluted than usual…story short…we're to the point where we HAVE to paint the house and, well, Garth (not his real name) had some scheduled time off, last week…sooooo, PERFECT TIMING!!!…besides, we've been prepping for this moment for a very looooong…well…hang on…let me show you.

     

    This Full House Autumn 2014 4

    Back of the house, color swatches circa at least two kids still in diapers ago (I think)!

    We were leaning towards the second color from the left. Some sort of Sante Fe terra cotta, I think. Then our parents got sick. My parents moved. Brother gets married, invites all 6 of us to be in the wedding party. And then "Maybe next year" turned into "Meh…the house doesn't look THAT bad, right?!?"

     

    This Full House Autumn 2014 5

    Front of the house, circa at least one kid in high school ago (maybe).

    Actually, you can't see the color, not anymore. It was a lovely barn red, but my husband HATED IT and covered it with our newest selections.

    This Full House Autumn 2014 6

    Oh wait, I lied. Here's a small section he missed.

    5 years later…I have to agree with him…ICK!!! So, he sent me to Home Depot with the following instructions: pick 3 of your favorite colors (see pic above the blood red) and then we'll just eenie-meenie-minee-moe-it!

    GarthNHRN painting sexay

    This right here, my friends? Is just all sorts of sexy. After 20+ years, dozens of snow storms, Nor'easters and 2 major hurricanes, the house is getting a fresh coat of paint. The old girl is smiling and looking good, already — house, too 🙂

    After a week of prepping the house for painting…for real…Garth (not his real name) completed the garage-side of the house, thinking we could let it set overnight and THEN decide if we really, really like it.

     

    This Full House Autumn 2014 7

    Yeah, I'm leaning towards the smokey plum.

    Aaaaand, then it rained…and rained…and I'm all like…MOTHEREFFER!!!…meh, I've waited THIS long, what's another couple of days…or twenty more…right?!? RIGHT?!?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    One could ONLY dream. Besides, at this rate, we could simply continue testing color combinations and have the house painted in…[does the math]…another 30 years…give or take a high school graduation…yo!

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • Outing (and then dousing) my social media-shy husband for the #IceBucketChallenge!

    Many of you already know my husband, Garth (not his real name) does NOT allow me to use his real name, let alone post pictures of him, here on my blog.

    Aaaaaand, especially for new friends visiting with us for the first time, here's why: because living with a professional dork is hard, yo.

    Tagging him on Facebook? Yeah, that would be a big HELL NO and FUHGEHTABOUTIT!

    However, one of our mutual Facebook friends tagged him for the #IceBucketChallenge to help bring awareness to ALS, because she knows my husband has a REAL BIG heart and will out (and douse) himself for charity.

    He waited until our oldest daughter got home from work (at well past our bedtime o'clock) and here's the most awesome part: he got the whole family involved!

    Our youngest was in charge of the cue card…what?…it was late o'clock!…while our middle girl took the video and our son…ummmm…well, he DID cheer his dad on and then just sort of…you know…stayed out of the way. He hates ice. And water.

    So, here's how it went down:

     

    It took all of 11 seconds (and a $25.00 donation) to give ALS the virtual bitchslap it deserves.

    Here's the REALLY MOST AWESOME part: now that it's on video, I get to watch my husband work his awesome, all over again…and again…and again…but, shhhhh…don't tell him, okay?!?

    Unless you happen to be reading this post, Garth (not your real name)…then RELAX!!!…if you actually click on the darn thing you'll see, I did NOT post the ENTIRE video.

    [one beat, two beats]

    It's a gif and you're welcome!

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • I am not superstitious, but I am a little stitious.

    Delinquent Cat

    He's drinking out of the dog's water bowl, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?

    I remember the first time I got "my cards read," I was my youngest girl's age (12 going on 42) and it freaked me out, big time.

    Her name was Charlotte, she was a friend of my Aunt Theresa's and she practiced cartomancy, which sounds an awful lot like gastromancy, but has nothing to do with being romantically involved with someone who works for the gas company — although, considering today's economy, it certainly would be a perk.

    "You will marry a man, with 5 letters in his name and you will have 4 children."

    You See?!?  Garth (not his real name) has five letters in his name, for real too!

    "Your brother will have a career in the Army and marry the Colonel's daughter."

    BINGO!!! Although, I'm not exactly sure what rank my SIL's father was.  Still, close enough, right?!?

    "You and your children will live a long and happy life."

    Still working on that one…[knocks on wood until knuckles bleed]…because the Hungarian in me wants to believe in divination and my "old world" upbringing dictates that we are indeed each blessed with certain gifts, but living with perhaps the BIGGEST skeptic on Earth has tempered all that.

    Aaaaaand then I just remind my husband, Garth (not his real name) about the time I fed him chicken on New Year's Day (=) a REAL BIG "Oh no you did'int" and precursor for some REAL BAD juju for the coming year, according to Hungarian folklore.

    It was also the year when things started to go bad, and kept getting worse:

    • My husband suffered from one health issue after another
    • Heather was diagnosed with severe colic
    • I endured months of sleep deprivation, while dealing with PPD
    • While our two-year-old contracted a viral infection
    • That would last for the next three years

    Call it bad luck, whatever, I've served ham every New Year's Day since then, just in case.

    "I got my cards read, for the first time, the other day."

    My MIL is still recovering from breaking her ankle (in three places, UGH!) over the summer, so we ran over to their place today to help her get a few chores done around the house.

    "It was really cool, Grandma!"

    I was out in the den watching the football game with my FIL (YES! It's a chore!) and headed back into their bedroom to check on my MIL.

    "The woman was very specific and detailed about stuff."

    I made a mental note to reacquaint our oldest daughter with my "Quit talking, about whatever it is you are talking about!" face, not quite knowing what my MIL thought about psychics, one way or the other and, well, she's still sort of getting used to having me as a DIL and stuff.

    "I know it sounds weird, but it was sort of cool, too."

    I watched as my MIL's eyes went REAL WIDE and prepared myself for the "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT-type" accusations, that would never come.

    "Well, I was four-years-old when I told your great-grandmother I would marry someone from Massachusetts."

    Good thing Thanksgiving is another 4 days away, because it's going to take me THAT long to scrape my husband's chin from off of the floor!

    ©2003 -2013 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook and everything!

    I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  • Male Bonding, in a Houseful of Females, is Sticky!

    Glen and Garth NHRN

    father & son, discussing manly things ~ june 2007

    I love this picture for so many reasons, but mostly because my son and husband weren't aware of my taking it (which is a great feat in and of itself, especially for a clumsy dork like myself, trust me on this!) and, in my stealthiness, I was able to capture an intimate moment between father and son.

    Don't EVEN get me started on how I just realized that my son still had his baby face in the 2nd grade or how blonde his hair would get by the end of the summer.

    Aaaaand, how the kid was (and still is) an absolute magnet for bug bites — look at his poor leg all bitten up and everything.

    My husband, on the other hand, could stay out for hours and not have to swat at a single bug — except for gnats, because those little suckers are relentless – I swear, the man is a walking, talking insect repellent.

    Aaaaand, he would have you believe it's because of his sour disposition, to which I will gladly call bullsh&t, each and every time AND most of you guys already know, I am married to a saint

    Lately, however, I can't say living with the both of them…under the same roof…has been a slice of heaven.


    #moreyspiers

    so close, yet so far

    Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful human beings and both have very soft and squishy hearts (which is good, when you live with a bunch of females); it's just that together, well, they butt heads…a lot…like a couple of enraged mountain goats.

    As if tensions weren't high enough, with a pre-menopausal mother in a houseful of teenage daughters, right?!?

    However, when my daughters and I do battle, it's mostly about their borrowing my clothes without asking or having any intentions of giving them back…cough, cough…HOLLY…cough, cough…or consuming the LAST pod of coffee…cough, cough…HEATHER…cough, cough…and don't EVEN get me started on my youngest daughter's habit of having the last word…WORD, INFINITY! 

    Glen all duded up for the 8th grade dance

    glen all duded up for the 8th grade dance ~ june 2013

    I mean, I get it:  it's like an alpha male sort of thing, right?!?  RIGHT?!?

    [cue pack of hyenas, laughing]

    Riiiiiiiiiight.

    I can't help it — growing up in a house with someone yelling at someone else, all the time — the butting head thing is making me a little crazy.  Okay, crazier than usual.  So does the inevitable radio silence, afterwards.

    This week?!?  Totally nutty — like in, holy crap on a cracker, can we PLEASE have a do-over?!? — the sort of crazy that will keep even a non-pre-menopausal woman up at night…worrying about every little thing she canNOT control…btw, she is also very well aware of that fact…DAMMIT!!!

    Aaaaand, then it hit her…I mean me…like a brick upside the head:  it's NOT them, it's me!

    Or, my stupidly high expectations of wanting to recapture that same intimate moment between the top two on my list of the most important men in my life.

    Rather than just enjoy small, fleeting moments of simply being.

    "Did you have a good time at the dance?"

    Content with understanding that perhaps now they just are NOT meant to include me.

    "Yeah, and Dad is a ninja at drop-offs and pick-ups!"

    Aaaaand, well, I'm okay with that, too.

    "He doesn't curse near as much as YOU do."

    Then again, this male bonding thing…highly overrated…don'tcha think?!?

    © 2003 – 2013 This Full House

    With a fan page on Facebook and everything! 

     

  • I’m Married to a Saint, Literally

    Confession:  we're not a very religious family, in the sense that we have not attended church services in a very long while and are, what I often refer to as being, "in between churches" at the moment.

    If you were to ask me to give you a reason why we aren't, at the very least, involved with some form of organized religion, it would be a very solid….I don't know.

    We used to be.

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) served as a deacon, while I taught Sunday school when our two oldest were in preschool and I was pregnant with our son when the church elders asked me to apply as the director of the vacation bible school that same year.

    DID SO!

    Aaaaaand, it may even surprise some of you to learn that I actually got the job (clearly, when I used to be much more organized and stuff).  

    Long story, short:  we left the congregation soon after our son was born and then, a few years later, had our youngest daughter christened at the church where our oldest girls had attended preschool.

    We haven't been back since, for what my husband and I now consider to be very boring and undramatic reasons.

    The kids?  Well, over the last several years, they have each been either asked to attend various religious ceremonies and youth groups with friends or have participated in church functions…with OTHER families.

    I mean, why lay ALL our ecclesiastical baggage on them…right?!?

    Right.

    Soooooo, you can just imagine their surprise when Garth's (NHRN) niece and her fiancee asked him to officiate their wedding, this summer.

    No, he did NOT become a minister, since in between those last few paragraphs, or anything that can be even remotely linked back to his college degree:  Garth (NHRN) minored in religion, ironically enough.

    My husband was dumbstruck — literally, he did NOT know what to say — I, on the other hand, was all like…SURE!!!…Uncle Garth (NHRN) would LOVE to marry you guys…because I am ALL supportive and brave (mostly, for OTHER folks) like that.

    Garth (NHRN), on the other hand, is all…it's their wedding…I do NOT want to blow this.

    So, this weekend, we were invited out to dinner to discuss the wedding ceremony with our niece and nephew-in-law-to-be and, well, funny how some stuff sort of seems a lot less worrisome…to some folks…when discussed over a pitcher of white sangria.

    "So, what do you think Uncle Garth (NHRN)?!?"

    Also, I may or may not have started answering for Garth (NHRN).

    "SURE…that sounds like a GREAT idea…FUHGHETTABOUT what everyone ELSE wants…it's YOUR wedding…yada…yada…etc…etc…"

    But, NOT for long.

    "SHUDDUP, YOU!!!"

    Aaaaaand, without skipping a beat, his niece pointed out how I effectively managed to reiterate the very reason why she suggested Garth (NHRN) solemnize their marriage. 

    "Seeeee, THIS is what WE have to look forward to!!!!"

    Not just because he's lived with me for almost 23 years, which qualifies him for sainthood, in some circles…I'm pretty sure…more likely, because he is also smart enough to let me finish my sentence…FIRST.

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Right.

    Saint Garth (not his real name): it's got a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?!?

    © 2003 – 2013 This Full House

    With a fan page on Facebook and everything! 

  • It’s Not The Years, HONEY – It’s the Mileage!

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) and Wayne (also not his real name, see what I did there?) met sometime around 1st grade.  They lived a couple of blocks away from each other and, throughout their elementary, middle school and high school years, remained the best of friends.

    Then Garth (NHRN) asked Wayne (NHRN) to help him move into his college dorm, inviting a mutual friend along (Tia, not her real name either) knowing that his friend Wayne (NHRN) had a secret crush on her and that the feeling was mutual.

    Note:  I feel it safe to say, having successfully conveyed the fact that no one in this story would willingly care to be associated with my blogging (no, I can't say as I blame them), I feel it unnecessary and quite cumbersome in my continuing to use the (NHRN) acronym (you're welcome!)

    Wayne and Tia were married a few years later and asked Garth to be their best man.  Garth and I were dating for about a month when he asked me to attend the christening of Wayne and Tia's first born son.

    Garth and I were engaged a few months later (he had me at, so you want to go out to dinner or something?) asked Wayne to be the best man at our wedding and then, a few years after that, we asked both Wayne and Tia to be Godparents to our middle girl.

    Wayne and Tia moved back to the old neighborhood to raise their kids, into a house down the street from my in-laws, while Garth and I had two more children, catching up to Wayne and Tia in requesting a table for six (or twelve, on those rare occasions we would eat out, all together).

    At this point in time, we started referring to our pregnancy time lines to keep track of each other's milestones or whenever we'd share stories about the summers our families spent vacationing together.

    Then, one day, something changed and we did not speak or see each other for the next ten years.

    What the hell happened?  Honestly, I couldn't tell you.  Garth and I still don't really know and would be hard-pressed to come up with an answer that would make any sense.  

    The only thing I can tell you, for sure, is that Wayne and Tia had disconnected themselves from most everyone, at that time (especially, family) and, as awful as this is going to sound, Garth and I took some solace in wondering (more like, hoping) maybe it wasn't "just us".

    Still, all was NOT lost, as we continued to exchange Christmas cards and then leave our happy birthday wishes for each of their kids…on the answering machine.  

    Then we stopped calling.

    Garth and I would see Wayne, from time to time, while driving past his and Tia's house (considering they still live down the corner from my in-law's) and catch glimpses of their kids, who would wave at us and perhaps wonder if we had moved or where we had gone.

    Then they stopped waving.

    Even longer story, shorter (seriously, I'm almost done) Garth and I received an invitation to Wayne's suprise 50th birthday party with a note:  although there has been distance in our relationship, you are both forever in our hearts and the boys and I know Wayne would love to have you at his party — hope you will join us!

    Garth and I were both silent on the drive to the restaurant on Saturday night, wondering if we would know any of the people attending the surprise party, whether or not anyone would recognize us and just what in the hell WAS it that robbed these two best friends of the last ten years, anyways?!?

    We walked into the restaurant, were greeted with a roomful of blank faces and, as terribly awful as this is going to sound, again took solace in knowing (or, at least, we were pretty sure) nope, it wasn't "just us".

    Garth hugged his Godson and asked if there would be any family attending the party?

    "You're it, Uncle Garth."

    [lump meet throat]

    Then it hit me, like a well-deserved bitchslap upside the head:  years after moving out of the house I grew up in, I never quite understood why my parents insisted on visiting "the old house" and then call to tell me just how bad it really looks.

    Until, the day the kids and I took a quick detour, were stunned into silence and then spent the rest of the drive home…remembering.

    It's sort of the same with Wayne and Tia:  no matter how broken, battered or beaten-up life gets us (seriously, a lot can happen in ten years, yes?) our friendship has good bones.

    Aaaaaand, yes, they happen to be getting older and more fragile by the minute (our bones, I mean, and us too, I guess) but, we STILL look good….DAMMIT!!!

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